Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Reckoning in Silence

Deep beneath the fortified layers of Dr. Dew's high command, silence reigned—a calculated stillness preceding decisive action. Within the command center, shielded by sensor-blanketing force fields and matter-reinforced walls, key figures convened: Leonardo da Vinci, Paracelsus, Nikola Tesla, Celeste Starfire Cassidy, and senior synth-commanders. The room was sealed, external communications jammed; this was a council for trusted ears only.

Holographic displays projected a grim mosaic: intercepted vox chatter, spy drone footage, and data from synthetic scouts. The Imperium of Man, a galaxy-spanning regime recently encountered, revealed itself as a theocratic, militarized machine thriving on war, xenophobia, and brutal conformity.

"They call it the Imperium of Man," Da Vinci began, adjusting the projection to highlight key structures—Ecclesiarchy nodes, forge worlds, segmentum capitals. "A hierarchy so vast it eclipses even the most bloated Earth bureaucracies from the pre-Fall era. But what concerns me most is not their structure. It's their ideology."

Dr. Dew, arms folded, responded, "We've confirmed their use of forced compliance. They enslave alien species, treat mutants as filth, and hunt down artificial intelligences without remorse. The Mechanicus labels it tech-heresy."

Celeste clicked her tongue, arms crossed over her duster. "Ain't no reasoning with folks who think circuitry's a sin. They'd string me up for just existing, same with Nova Kids, Glitch, even the T-Dolls."

Tesla, after a moment's pause, offered his observation. "Their technological advancement stagnated centuries ago. Their FTL travel relies on a transdimensional plane they call the Warp—unpredictable, corrosive, and home to what their records describe as 'daemonic entities.' They don't travel through hyperspace; they sail through madness."

Paracelsus interjected, his voice low, "Our synth-animal scouts intercepted... rituals. Worship. Sacrifice. The Imperium condemns Chaos cults, yet their practices and punishments carry the same obsessive zeal."

Dr. Dew altered the display, revealing decrypted warp theory: chaotic tides of emotion, belief, and suffering creating a psychic ocean connecting all sapient thought—except their city remained immune.

"The Warp," he explained, "is this universe's answer to mana. A dimension of pure emotion, psychic power, and... hell. Demons reside there. Literal demons. Our city is shielded. The Warp can't touch us here, not directly. We've theorized this immunity stems from overlapping Isu technology and anti-psionic latticework embedded in our foundational systems. That's why the Imperium's psykers feel nothing—no whispers, no feedback, just silence."

Tesla turned slightly, hands clasped behind his back. "And silence terrifies them more than noise. It disrupts their paradigm."

"What do we do?" Celeste asked flatly. "We're in the eye of a storm now. If they dig too deep, we might not be able to lie our way out."

"We prepare," Dr. Dew declared. "More than we have before. We take what we've learned and move to phase two. I'm greenlighting Project Ascendant."

The room fell still. Only Tesla smiled, as though he'd been anticipating those words.

Da Vinci stepped forward. "Then we'll begin. I'll prepare the augmentation chambers and optimize the integration protocols."

Dr. Dew keyed in an override. The floor beneath them illuminated and shifted, revealing the full holomap of the fusion project. Koh-I-Noor technology. Metal Gear exo-components. Nikke AI cores. Detroit android neurology. Nier's modular flexibility. Punishing Gray Raven's adaptive combat instincts. Girls' Frontline's tactical network integration. All of it.

"We'll build the first of the Ascendants—starting with volunteers," Dew stated. "But we'll do it right. No mind control. No conversion. No robbing them of humanity. Every part will amplify who they already are."

"Who volunteered?" Paracelsus inquired.

"Bianca," Dew replied. "And she's already in prep."

In the augmentation wing, Bianca Alter stood at the center of a suspended platform, clad in a simple bodysuit. Calm and resolute, the artificial sun above shimmered against her silver-blonde hair as chamber walls closed around her. The machine initiated its process.

Her bones were reinforced with magnetically stabilized metal alloys sourced from Metal Gear frames. Muscles layered with Nikkes' artificial fiber, capable of superhuman tension and recoil compensation. Her nervous system grafted with T-Doll fast-response software, and her sensory map updated with Detroit-tier perceptive logic. From Nier came reactive adaptability. Isu technology enhancements bled into her weapons.

Her bow, now reconstructed, remained a powerful long-range weapon, capable of firing stronger arrows at increased speeds. Her sword, enhanced with high-frequency design elements and nano-reactive systems, offered superior cutting capabilities. Bianca's appearance mirrored that of a normal flesh-and-blood human, thanks to integration with Detroit Become Human android technology.

When the chamber opened, Bianca emerged transformed. Each step caused the floor beneath her to resonate—not from weight, but sheer kinetic compression. Her movements were fluid, controlled, yet radiated overwhelming power. She looked human—completely so, skin warm and eyes alive—but inside, every part of her was honed for war.

"She's ready," Da Vinci whispered.

Dr. Dew nodded, gaze unwavering. "One person. One army."

Celeste raised an eyebrow. "That a bit dramatic, sugar?"

Dr. Dew gave a small, thoughtful shrug. "Where I come from, that level of strength could've wiped out entire factions. By Fallout standards… she really is an army by herself."

Tesla smirked faintly. "And by our standards now?"

Dew's expression sharpened. "She's the beginning."

Later that night, Dr. Dew and his team observed from a high vantage point as the fusion-tested Titans came online—armored behemoths of power armor, Isu reactor cores, and Metal Gear artillery, shaped like walking knights of ancient Earth myth. Each towered over the plaza, engines humming with restrained potential.

Tesla ran diagnostics on the central core's interface. "Give it six months," he said, "and we'll be able to deploy Ascendant units and Knight-Titans on a planetary scale."

"And when the Imperium eventually finds out?" Celeste asked quietly.

Dr. Dew turned from the window.

"Then they'll find a civilization they cannot bully, a people they cannot enslave, and a fire they cannot extinguish."

From deep orbit, the stars remained silent. But somewhere, in the darkness, something stirred.

Earth's lost children—born of steel, fire, and code—were no longer waiting.

End of Chapter Thirty-Seven